


Theatre of Deamons

by Syven



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 18:31:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11340975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syven/pseuds/Syven
Summary: Originally written on 11/10/2006.





	Theatre of Deamons

“Is there a particular reason you are watching me, Mr. Malfoy, or should I attribute these actions to something less… benign?” Hermione Granger ground out between her clenched teeth in annoyance, looking up from the volume of Dark Art magic she had been reading for the last three hours as she sat curled in the large armchair by the fire. She had been forgotten by her friends, ignored and overlooked by the Order members who filtered through the room and the young witch was perfectly content to be treated like a piece of furniture. What she was not content with was being studied like a bug under a microscope by the brooding, insulting pureblood wizard who had turned out to be the Orders oldest, deepest spy.

“Less benign, Miss Granger? I am not sure I understand what you mean.” The aristocratic dark wizard drawled smugly, holding his hands out in a gesture of innocence.

 _Slam!_ The book in her grasp snapped shut and she unfolded her legs to stand, clutching the book tightly as she hissed. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Malfoy. If you will be so kind as to excuse me, I will leave you in peace.”

“I do not,” Grey eyes glinted dangerously as the wizard purred darkly.

Herminoe blinked in confusion, stammering nervously. “You don’t what, Mr. Malfoy?”

“I do not excuse you, Miss Granger,” Lucius drawled, a hint of anger to his normally sneering tones and he rose from the sofa opposite to take a step toward the young woman, effectively cutting off her escape.

Hermione involuntarily took a step back, her heart racing as her eyes darted to the open door behind the wizard. Without thinking, her wand dropped out of her sleeve, sliding smoothly into her grasp and leveled it. “I was being polite, Mr. Malfoy, something I would think you could appreciate even coming from someone like myself. As you obviously do not, I will trouble you no more with my presence.”

“Miss Granger… I meant nothing… portending. You should not feel the need to leave when you are so obviously comfortable here,” Lucius spoke slowly, carefully, as his brow creased in a minute frown.

“It’s uncomfortable to be stared at, Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione grumbled, thrown off balance by the wizard’s uncharacteristic acquiescence, deftly tucking her wand in the back pocket of her muggle jeans.

Holding out a hand to indicate she should take her seat, the wizard inclined his head politely. “My… apologies, Miss Granger. I… forgot my manners.”

“I see,” She sat down and glanced thoughtfully down at the book in her lap. “What do you know about this book, Mr. Malfoy?”

He settled back onto the sofa, closer to her than before and folded his hands calmly in his lap. Arching an eyebrow, he smirked. “Quite a bit, Miss Granger. It is from my collection, after all.”

“This spell here… _Rivicus deamonius_ … has this… I mean, do you know of any instances in which it’s been used?” Her fingers flew through the pages to find the entry she referenced, pointing it out to the wizard as she balanced the book on her knees, glancing up at him as her rush of words faded away.

The elder Malfoy’s eyebrow rose even higher, his cool gray gaze leveling evenly on the young witch as he purred smugly. “Miss Granger… are you seriously asking me if I’ve used that particular spell?”

“No… I mean, I thought… Well…” she blushed, dropping her eyes as she stammered in embarrassment.

Leaning forward, a sheet of silken platinum hair swept off his shoulders to frame his face as he rested his elbows on his knees, steeping his fingers. “My, my, my… you were. Miss Granger, I believe you have me at a loss… I cannot disconcert if you truly think me such a monster as to suggest I would use such an… enchantment or you simply do not comprehend the true nature of that spell.”

“The true nature of the spell is the reanimation of demons through the possession and sacrifice of a living witch or wizard, Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione huffed, hotly indignant, her brown eyes flashing at the perceived insult to her intellect by the pureblood.

The flicker of emotion across his chiseled features was quelled a tenth of a second after it started and he stood abruptly, sneering coldly. “Excuse me, Miss Granger.”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but held her words in check as he swept from the room, passing Remus Lupin in the doorway. The former DADA professor paused to watch the dark wizard’s dramatic exit before turning to Hermione with a questioning look. “Are you alright, Hermione?”

“Yes, Professor Lupin,” She answered feeling oddly bereft.

~

A week passed before Hermione glimpsed the aristocratic pureblood again as he accompanied Severus Snape out of the Order headquarters, the pair of wizards having already donned their Death Eater robes. Lucius threw her a cold glare over his shoulder as the door shut between them. Returning to her room in the attic after dinner that evening, Hermione was surprised to find a book on her pillow. Picking it up, she turned it over to read the cover. _’Theatre of Deamons’_

Opening the tomb, she gasped to find it written entirely in Germanic runes – a rare form of arithmacy that she had studied earlier in the year. Curling against her pillows, she was soon lost in scribbling furious notes as she poured over the text. It was only when she found herself yawning that Hermione realized how late it had grown and, tucking the book under her pillow, she wondered who had left it. Sleepily, she dismissed the obvious sources – the boys were incapable of noticing her reading habits. She considered Professor Lupin briefly before discounting him. Quickly, the list of possibilities narrowed down to only two names – Snape and Malfoy. Hermione resolved to ask Professor Snape about it before sleep overtook her.

Hermione did not see the Potion Master for a month during which preparations and research to begin the horcrux hunt had taken all but a spare hour or two of her time and even that was consumed by the intriguing tomb in her possession. Scrambling out of her chair by the fire, Hermione called out to the raven-haired wizard when he passed by the door. “Professor Snape!”

“I am no longer your professor, Miss Granger,” he sneered silkily, watching the young woman approach with guarded curiosity.

Cheeks flush from her sudden burst of movement, Hermione smiled shyly. “My apologies. It is hard to overcome all those years of respect, sir. How would you prefer I address you, sir?”

Ebony eyes considered her intently before he answered, growling softly. “While we are not… yet colleagues, Miss Granger, I find your question sufficient evidence to request you address me by my given name.”

“I am honored… Severus, and it is only fair that I insist you do the same,” The flush of her cheeks deepened as his name slipped from her lips with shy intimacy.

Severus bowed minutely. “What is it I can… assist you with… Hermione?”

“Oh! Yes… you see, someone left this book in my room several weeks ago and I though perhaps it had been you,” she startled, remembering why she had stopped him in the first place and held the book out, spine up.

Severus’ ebony gaze flickered lazily down to take in the title, darting back to meet hers in a flash. “No, Hermione. I did not leave this for you.”

There was something in his voice that made her eyes narrow deductively. “I feel as if this is a rather rare text.”

“The only one of its kind, Miss… Hermione,” Snape answered silkily, folding his hands behind his back, lips pursed tightly together.

Pressing the book to her chest, she could not meet the wizard’s eyes. “I see.”

“Do you?” Severus growled softly.

Hermione glanced around the empty foyer and licked her lips nervously. “I think I may have offended Mr. Malfoy.

“And that… concerns you, Hermione?” Snape sneered silkily, arching a black eyebrow.

She sighed deeply. “I find it does, Severus.”

“You do?” he was surprised, given the pureblood’s previous interactions with the young woman standing before him.

Her voice was firm, holding a whisper of regret. “I do.”

“In that case, Hermione… I am afraid I can only… suggest you distance yourself from such considerations. You have many responsibilities pressing in on you now and… speaking as someone who has enjoyed Mr. Malfoy’s… friendship for longer than you have been alive… Mr. Malfoy is an exceptionally dangerous man regardless of where his… loyalties lie. It would be a grave misjudgment to… forget that.”

Hermione looked up at her former teacher with undisguised surprise, lips parting in an unspoken protest that found no life in the realm of sound. Finally, she nodded solemnly and stepped around him to climb the stairs to her attic bedroom.

~

The following months were spent traversing the countryside and in broken down, abandoned buildings in the hunt for the Dark Lord’s horcruxes. The Trio returned each night, exhausted, bruised and bleeding only to depart each morning looking more haggard with each passing day. Days melted into weeks of unending fear and mounting paranoia until the three childhood friends finally found they could not return to the place they had called home. 

One fateful night was all it took to unravel the frail grasp of desired trust they had when the Trio found themselves ambushed by a small group of Death Eaters led by Bellatrix Lestrange. The accuracy of their attackers entrance made them question the very haven they had grown to expect and it was by joint, unspoken agreement that the three young friends sought shelter that night in a nearby cave.

It was Ron who threw the first hissing, angry name out as they sat tending their wounds over a small campfire. “Malfoy.”

“No,” Harry discounted with surprising venom. “I want to believe that, too, but I can’t. Snape, either. Neither of them has been at headquarters for the last month. They’d have no way of knowing about tonight. We only just decided after dinner last night.”

“Whomever it is, they were at dinner with us… that’s not a very comforting thought, Harry,” Hermione whispered, horrified as her mind’s eye panned over her memory of the full table the previous evening.

As they lay in the dirt, the fire doused and heating charms in place alongside rather vigorous concealment wards, she whispered a painful accusation. “Toby.”

Concurrent murmurs came from the darkness and Hermione sat bolt upright with a thought. “Snape and Malfoy! If they go back to headquarters and Toby is here… Voldemort will kill them. We’ve got to get word to them.”

“How do you propose we do that, ‘mione?” Ron grumbled. “How do you know they aren’t all working for You Know Who?”

“Really, Ronald, your blind hatred is both tiring and crippling. How are we supposed to beat Voldemort when you can’t even get past your childish grudges?” Hermione huffed, fed up and exhausted. “Forget it. I’ll do it myself, just like I do everything else for you two ungrateful gits.”

With that, she stomped from the cave out into the cold night. Stopping just beyond their wards, she glanced up at the half moon thoughtfully before disapparating. The apparation point at the west gate of the Hogwarts Castle was clear when Hermione popped into existence there a second later. Throwing up a swift silencing charm around her feet, she ran, huddled low across the rocky terrain to the rear kitchen entry.

Hermione was a scant 500 yards from the Potion Master’s quarters deep in the dungeons, slinking from shadow to shadow when a strong hand suddenly covered her mouth, pulling her backwards into a small alcove. A steely grip wrapped around the hand holding her wand but she fought back fiercely, stilling only when a familiar smug purr vibrated deeply against her ear. “Miss Granger…”

She went slack in his arms the moment he spoke, leaning into his tight embrace with obvious relief and inexplicable trust. She whispered breathlessly. “Mr. Malfoy! Thank Merlin! I came to warn you and Severus…”

“Severus?” The heavy smugness in his voice was gone, replaced by an imperial sneer of annoyance and his hand tightened minutely around her bicep.

Hermione felt her stomach flutter oddly but shook it off, confused as she continued hastily. “We walked into a trap tonight. Six death eaters lead by Bellatrix… we barely managed to limp away… Mr. Malfoy, there is a spy in the Order… if you or Severus go to headquarters, Voldemort will find out.”

Lucius' grip tightened perceptively and he spun her in his grip, stepping out of the shadows to glare down at her intently, his long fine hair framing his scowling face. “Where are you companions, Miss Granger?”

“They… I… I came alone, Mr. Malfoy,” She glanced away, breaking from his unwavering stare, cheeks flushing lightly.

Lucius bowed his head, leaning down to brush his lips lightly against her cheek as he breathed in her scent. Growling, he persisted. “You came here… to warn us… alone, Miss Granger?”

“Harry and Ron… they… they weren’t going to and I couldn’t just… Mr. Malfoy, you’re hurting me,” Hermione gasped as his fingers dug into her arms harder but at her words he released her immediately.

“You put yourself in great danger coming here, Miss Granger… Am I to assume you have some idea who this spy might be?” Lucius was stiffly polite, sneering tightly as he gripped his silver tipped cane.

Hermione nodded and glanced nervously down the darkened corridor to where the Potion Master’s door lay. “Yes, sir. Is Severus here? I should… I mean, I was on my way to speak with him.”

Instead of answering, he grabbed her by the arm abruptly and strode over to the door, dragging her with him, pushing it open to swing her into the sitting room beyond. Hermione stumbled as he released her arm. 

“Hermione!” The Potion Master flew from his reading chair to her side, gently reaching up to touch the gash now visible on her cheek. Turning with an angry scowl, Severus hissed. “What is the meaning of this, Lucius?”

“Sir, please. Mr. Malfoy did not do this,” Hermione gestured to the deep cut that he was tentatively examining. “Sir, we were attacked tonight during our search. They knew exactly where we’d be.”

“You suspect someone has infiltrated the Order, Hermione?” Severus’ ebony eyes took in the young woman’s torn and bloody clothes, the bruises and cuts on her arms and face.

Hermione nodded, taking a deep breath. “I came as soon as we realized. Sir, if you or Mr. Malfoy have been to headquarters tonight… you’re in great danger.”

“We have not been to the Black estate in over a week, Hermione. Do not concern yourself with that further. What is important right now is discovering who betrayed you,” Snape growled angrily, his hand stroking her arm absently.

“Sir, I believe Toby is the one but… I want you to look… We only discussed the newest search area at dinner and he didn’t seem at all suspicious but…” Hermione explained hurriedly, laying her hand on his arm.

Severus nodded, leading her into his bedroom where he indicated she should sit with a wave of his hand. Perched on the edge of the large bed, Hermione closed her eyes as her former teacher knelt between her legs and she murmured softly at the touch of his hands on her face. “Will it hurt?”

“Not if you cooperate, Hermione. Do not resist and try to relax. I will not venture anywhere you do not wish me to go. Think about the events of the past week now,” his voice was silken and deep, velvet wrapped in steel and Hermione leaned forward towards him unconsciously as he purred. _“Legimens…”_

Scenes of the past week scrolled swiftly by. Anything of a private nature was skimmed or bypassed without pause and Hermione relaxed completely at the soft press of his fingertips on her temples. Severus' voice came, finally, sounding soft and distant. “It’s here, Lucius. Her suspicions were correct. Taken alone, his actions appear innocent. Together, it is obvious. He is not skilled at duplicity… You can open your eyes, Hermione.”

“He will have to be… dealt with, Severus,” Lucius drawled lazily from the doorway where he leaned casually watching the interaction between the teacher and his former student with sullen interest.

On the bed, she yawned suddenly and slid to her feet. “Sir, I have to go now. Harry and Ron… they’ll be worried about me. And sir… we won’t be going back to headquarters.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You are in no condition to travel!” Severus growled, frowning as she walked past him to the doorway where she peered up at Lucius who blocked her way.

“Please excuse me, Mr. Malfoy,” She asked softly, unwilling to meet his gray stare. After a long, uncomfortable moment, he stepped aside, his cloak lapping reproachfully at her legs as she stepped past.

“I will return to discuss this after I escort Miss Granger safely to the apparition point,” Lucius drawled darkly, falling in step behind her and pulling the door shut behind him, ignoring the baleful glare of his friend.

Hermione remained silent as they made their way out of the dungeons. She kept quiet even when Lucius took her elbow in the castle halls, but she stopped at the doors to the garden. Her head bowed, hand on the door handle, she whispered. “I can better traverse the grounds alone, Mr. Malfoy.”

“You cannot, Miss Granger, and I will be accompanying you regardless of what you think,” Lucius hissed, his hand tightening on her elbow and she shrugged, pushing the door open and stepping outside. They reached the gate without incident, but he stopped her when she moved to leave the grounds.

“You are in no condition to travel alone, Miss Granger,” Lucius Malfoy drawled smugly, folding his arms over his chest, chin raised as he glared down his nose at the weary young woman before him.

Hermione lifted her hand to the slicing wound at her cheek and sighed. “Nevertheless, Mr. Malfoy, I intend to do just that. Thank you for your escort. Good evening.”

“Miss Granger!” He moved with a grace and speed of a panther, his hand darting out to curl around her bicep, pulling her close, as he drew his wand. Hermione froze as the wand swirled across her face and down her body, watching his lips move soundlessly as he healed her wounds. Brushing his fingertips lightly across her now unmarred cheek, Lucius bent his head, his voice low and husky, as he said. “There… perfect once more, Miss Granger.”

“Than… Thank you, Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione stammered, her heart racing at his proximity, the warmth of his body, his masculine scent making her body flush with confusion. Stepping back with a shiver, she unlatched the gate and slipped out. Lifting a hand hesitantly before dropping it, she murmured softly. “Your book is on my bed at headquarters, Mr. Malfoy. I regret not being able to return it myself.”

She looked away up to the stars, thoughtful, as she said. “I regret a lot of things, Mr. Malfoy, not the least of which is my comment in the library. I do not think of you like that, sir.”

The night air was split with the distinctive crack of disapparation and she was gone, not seeing the sudden, startled look of concern on his face. Growling in frustration, Lucius stared at the empty space she had stood in for several minutes, fighting the inexplicable clench of his stomach at her words. 

What he could not have known, what none of them could have known, was that he would be the last person to see Hermione for two long, bloody, war-filled years.

~

A week passed during which the two wizards easily dispatched the spy in their midst, raising no questions from either side, before an owl alighted on the balcony of his bedroom at Malfoy Manor. He had been surprised when his house elf had found him in his study, explaining the presence of an owl who would not relinquish it’s missive to anyone but Lucius. Striding out onto his balcony, he arched an eyebrow sardonically at the tiny brown owl shaking its leg at him.

With a sigh of exasperation, Lucius untied the scroll from the bird and began unrolling it when the creature took flight suddenly. Glancing down, his gray eyes narrowed at the orderly scrolling handwriting. He did not recognize it but the author obviously knew him. 

_’Long held beliefs state that wizards or witches who dabble in the occult, or what is better known as the underworld – these beliefs state that these people must be intrinsically evil or ‘dark’ to be predisposed to having talent in the demonic arts…’_

The parchment was nearly eighteen inches long and the neat handwriting covered nearly every possible inch on both sides, without signature, date or salutation. It was only then that his gaze darted up, looking for the owl. He would not see the bird for another eight days when it once again landed on his balcony.

Stepping from the enormous en-suite bathroom, a towel wrapped low around his hips, Lucius was pulling his robe from the ornate wardrobe when a soft tap came from the window. A small frown flickered across his forehead before he recognized the tiny bird and he approached it cautiously, growling lightly. “You will wait for my reply, little bird.”

The brown owl swiveled its head up at the wizard, blinking without remorse as it held out its tiny leg but the very second its missive was freed, it was gone in a flash. Lucius cursed its treachery even as he unfurled the parchment. An eyebrow raised in mild surprise at the first line.

_’Forgive my handwriting tonight, it has been a long day and I grew weary but I could not find my rest until I wrote you. I left off discussing the so called moral dilemma of dabbling in arcane arts that are considered by modern day witches and wizards as being ‘dark’ or ‘evil’. I would expound upon my theories of the historically rich traditions of cooperation and interaction with the underworld in an effort to best explain why a bridge should be re-established in an effort to thwart the true evils that threaten our world…’_

This missive was three parchments long and once again, the orderly script covered all sides without any indication of identity. If the owl had been intercepted, there would be nothing to betray either the sender or the receiver. At that thought, Lucius pulled on his robes, tucked the parchment into his pocket and disapparated to the Hogwarts gate to seek out his friend.

Severus looked down at the parchment in surprise, glancing up at his regal friend with an amused glint in his ebony eyes. “Lucius… is there something you would like to tell me?”

“I don’t know what you could mean, Severus. As I explained, I am unfamiliar with the handwriting,” Lucius sniffed imperiously.

Handing the pages back, the Potion Master smirked. “It would appear that your mysterious pen pal is Miss Granger.”

“You are sure?” The elder Malfoy demanded sharply, his fingers tightening on the parchments.

Now Severus frowned, eyes narrowing suspiciously at his longtime friends’ odd behavior. “Quite sure, Lucius… She was my student for seven years, after all. Does she give any hint as to where they are?”

“No. I assure you, Severus, if she did, I would drag them back personally. Silly chit of a girl… worrying everyone,” Lucius answered tightly, glaring at him. 

Severus sneered mockingly. “Yes, worrying… everyone… it seems.”

A week melted into a month, the letters arrived every eight days like clockwork and, after the third month passed without the Trio’s return, the letters began to change, subtly at first.

_’I can well imagine you will scoff at my theories surrounding the Romanic runes foregone arithmacy projections but I assure you, I have given this profound thought. I imagine you are chuckling now, at my impertinence. It’s quite alright… you see, I find myself doing that as well… the days are so long now…’_

~

_’The North star was brighter than normal last night. I found myself wondering, absurdly, if you might be seeing it as well. Yes, a silly musing that you would dismiss, I’m sure. Getting back to the Germanic druids, I’ve found several connections between their rock formations and the algebraic teachings of…’_

~

_’There is no viable research to support the revival premise but I feel I am getting closer. I had to glamour myself to go into town this week… it felt strange moving through the crowds unnoticed… the press of humanity as they say… it frightened me. My need for caution has driven me to jump at even the smallest of touches, even from those dearest to me. Is it always this hard? My apologies, I’ve wandered off the subject. It’s this cold, I’m sure, and the isolation. I feel detached from our world… all except you, dear reader. I’ve grown fond of you these long days…’_

~

_’I had a dream about you three nights ago. It’s a fear I’ve had for a long time now and I see now why they say that dreams are unconscious manifestations of our unspoken fears – those things we are unwilling to admit even to ourselves… in my dream, you were lying at my feet unmoving and I was responsible. I’ve had a hard time sleeping since…’_

~

_’I am irrationally consumed by fear for you, dear reader, and I did something foolish because of it. I chanced caution and reason to pass close to you in the Alley this week, glamoured into someone else entirely… unrecognizable even by my own kin. Call me silly. Deride my insolence but I could not stop myself. Check your pockets, dear reader…’_

Lucius felt a chill run down his spine and took the stairs to his bedroom two at a time, flinging open the wardrobe to rifle through the robes he had worn the previous few days. After a few minutes search, he found the small silver band and held it up to the light, reading the runic inscriptions engraved around the band and within as well. 

Gray eyes found the clear inscription of his own name, making the ring intimately his and Lucius felt the power of the enchantment, knowing only a blood bond could emanate the strength this small ring did. Hermione had given her own blood to forge the ring, creating an unbreakable charm that prevented her from causing Lucius harm and giving him a considerably strong ward against harm from others. 

_’Ahhh, sleep, blessed Merlin, how nice it is not to have those horrible dreams about you, dear reader. Did you see the lunar eclipse two nights ago? It was an unexpected pleasure and it distracted me from the pain in my leg… took a bad hex four days ago… finding it harder not to retaliate with the same degree of finality as those that hunt me… Do people know when they’ve become monsters or do you think they don’t see anything different about themselves anymore? I fear becoming one of them…’_

~

The battlefield hung with a misty haze in the early morning hours, scattered fires burning amidst the dead and the dying. The Order had received word ten days prior, just one brief parchment that had galvanized tired witches and wizards all across the country, including the Orders two deepest spies. 

Now, the bedraggled pair swept over the battlefield like dark, avenging angels who appeared opposite in every aspect, one starkly blonde and imperial, the other… midnight on legs, a shifting darkness in his eyes as he pulled another corpse over to peer intently at its features. Lucius strode over to his friends’ shoulder at the deep sigh. “Is it?”

“No, Lucius,” Severus growled angrily as he raked a shaking hand through raven-black hair, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “How could they have let her out of their sight? Idiot boys!”

Helping Severus to his feet, Lucius peered into the forest once more, pointing to a figure huddled on the ground in the distance. The still form lay at the base of a cluster of trees and the wizards quickly made their way to it. This time, Lucius knelt and gingerly pushed the cloak’s hood back from the figure. Soft brunette locks fell freely out from under the cloth and both men gasped, Lucius slipping a hand to Hermione's neck immediately. His steel gray eyes flickered up to meet the dark wizard’s glare. “She’s alive. Thank Merlin!”

Severus nodded, easing the witch down to the forest floor, pulling her cloak back as he swirled his wand over her body, murmuring one spell after another with intense concentration. Finally, he growled. “I’ve stopped the bleeding, Lucius, but she’s been heavily hexed.”

Lucius' gaze darted around the forest before falling upon another form laying only 50 feet away, nearly obscured by the underbrush and he made his way to it, gripping his wand tightly as he turned the body over. The unmistakable features of his former sister-in-law looked back at him with unseeing eyes. The dark, insane witch was dead, her head lolling freely from the deep wound across her neck. “It’s Bellatrix. She’s dead.”

Severus had gathered Hermione up into his arms and swung around, facing his friend. “Bring the wand.”

Lucius pulled the thin strip of wood from the dead witch’s grasp and returned to Severus’ side with a nod, both men disapparating with a loud crack that broke the unholy stillness of the forest. Apparating into the makeshift command area, the wizards pushed past everyone, drawing sharp words that they ignored and gasps as others recognized the figure lying limply in Severus' arms.

Lucius held the medtent flap open for Severus and barked sharp commands at the Healers who scrambled to the cot where Hermione was gently deposited. Within second, both wizards found themselves shoved roughly to the side as the medwitches worked feverishly over the young woman.

When Hermione opened her eyes, more than ten days had passed and she had been transferred to a protected ward in St. Mungos. It was early on a Saturday morning, just before sunrise when she stirred finally, unconsciously clutching the big, warm hand enveloping hers. Brown eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the dim light with a blink to meet the hard ebony gaze of her former Professor. Her soft voice was hoarse with disuse. “Severus! Merlin… I’m so glad you made it through.”

A harsh growl made her glance to the right in time to see a flurry of black robes and long, platinum hair disappear through the ward doors. Severus’ deep voice brought her attention back. “I’ve known Mr. Malfoy for more years than you have been alive, Miss Granger… I think I would be… perfectly safe in saying… I’ve never seen him so… afflicted with… concern. It was he who found you, Miss Granger.”

“I see,” Hermione whispered, her gaze darting to the door and back, giving the wizard’s hand a tight squeeze. “Sir… I killed Bellatrix.”

“We know… she nearly killed you as well,” Severus arched an eyebrow, answering silkily. “Do not concern yourself with it.”

“Sir… I… I went after her. We knew what she’d done to Draco. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let her escape… justice.”

He frowned, trying to reconcile her actions against the years the wizarding world had been without her. Looking into her eyes, he felt a sense of inexplicable loss as he growled darkly. “Your justice?”

“Yes, Sir, mine,” She replied smoothly, her jaw set as her tiny chin raised minutely. The two years of hunting horcruxes, living in abandoned homes, sleeping in the forest and under porches did not show in her face, but her eyes held a hard glint that gave her companion pause.

Ebony eyes shifted pointedly to the door and back as Severus drawled smoothly. “You wrote him.”

“Oh. Yes. I… I didn’t think anyone would know it was me,” She stammered at the sudden question, blushing softly.

He chuckled. “I recognized your handwriting. I must confess no small degree of curiosity… why Lucius? One would think he would be the last person…”

“I’m not sure I can explain my initial motivations, sir. I guess… I wanted to talk to someone who couldn’t judge me as any worse… someone who had no expectations of me… someone I couldn’t… disappoint,” She looked down at their joined hands, avoiding her companions’ eyes.

“Do you remember what I said to you… about Mr. Malfoy?” Severus growled softly.

Hermione nodded, brunette curls bouncing lightly. “Yes, sir… You said Mr. Malfoy is an exceptionally dangerous man regardless of where his loyalties lie and it would be a grave misjudgment to forget that.”

“I believe it would be… imprudent for me not to tell you, Hermione… those letters… they have been something of a… distraction for Mr. Malfoy,” he allowed silkily, gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

She just nodded solemnly, her lips pressed tightly together. Gesturing finally to the door, she asked with a weary sigh. “Sir, I’m…”

“Severus,” Snape interrupted, a frown flashing across his forehead.

Hermione smiled weakly, but with evident warmth. “Severus… I’m very tired. Could I beg a favor from you after all you have done already?”

“Of course,” He answered quickly.

“Would you… would you ward the door for me, please? I… it’s been… can’t…” She struggled to explain the all-encompassing fears that had kept her safe for two long, lonely years but he held up a hand to silence her.

“Whom do you wish to have entry, Hermione?” Severus purred softly, standing and drawing his wand in one graceful motion.

“Whomever my Healer is… Harry, Ron, yourself, of course, and… Mr. Malfoy,” She gazed up at the older wizard with guarded eyes, waiting for his protest but none came, he simply nodded and began the enchantment.

She remained silent while her companion worked, speaking only when he moved back to her bedside. “Mr. Malfoy… He’s angry with me, isn’t he?”

“Mr. Malfoy is… confused, Hermione. It is not something a man like Lucius is comfortable with,” Severus purred silkily.

“Who else knows about the letters?” She asked suddenly.

Arching an eyebrow, he considered her before answering. “Myself and Lucius, and I am only aware of two letters, Hermione, though I have every reason to believe there were more.”

“Oh. All right. Thank you, Severus… for everything. It is really a great relief to see you well. I’d been worried for you and Mr. Malfoy in the battle,” She whispered softly, her voice fading out with her words as she closed her eyes, letting exhaustion overtake her once more.

~

When she woke nine hours later, Severus Snape was gone – his chair now occupied by Lucius Malfoy, his trademark serpentine cane balanced against his inner thigh as he read. He gave no indication of awareness to her steady gaze, but he moved the tasseled bookmark calmly in place and folded the book to meet it. Hermione tapped down the smile that threatened to grace her lips, attempting to sound neutral and polite, she said. “It is good to see you well, Mr. Malfoy.”

He arched an eyebrow at her as he leaned forward in his chair, balancing his hands on the handle of his cane. “Is it, Miss Granger?”

“I don’t know what you could mean by that, Mr. Malfoy, but I assure you my relief is genuine,” Hermione answered softly, dropping her eyes to the blanket.

Drawing something from the inside pocket of his robe, he held out a thick, tightly bound roll of parchment tied in an emerald green ribbon. Thrusting the scroll out before him, his gray eyes grew stormy as he demanded sharply. “And these? Were these genuine as well, Miss Granger?”

Anger flashed in her brown eyes and she sat up in the bed, wincing at the sharp pain in her side. Meeting his steely gray stare, she hissed. “Yes, Mr. Malfoy. I can imagine you are unfamiliar with honesty and caring, but let me dissuade you from any perceived notions that you might have regarding the ability to abuse me. If you chose to scoff at my letters for _two bloody years_ , that is your right, but I don’t have to sit here and listen.”

Gripping the opposite side of the hospital bed, she staggered determinedly to her feet unsteadily, her lips pressed tightly together as she searched her pockets for her wand. Her anger clouded her mind and Hermione started sharply at the curl of large hands around her biceps, finding herself looking up at the elder Malfoy’s glare.

“Where do you think you are going, Miss Granger?” Lucius hissed silkily.

Her hand closed over her wand as she spat back, furious. “Anywhere but here, Mr. Malfoy. I can’t say I’m surprised at your continued hatred, but I would be lying if I denied hoping for something else. Goodbye, Mr. Malfoy, and be rest assured, I will trouble you no further.”

With that, Hermione disapparated with a loud crack right out from under his hands, leaving Lucius scowling in rage. Turning, his hand swept out and bottles shattered, the chair crashed against the wall and the examining table in the corner overturned just as the ward doors parted to admit Severus Snape. Arching an eyebrow in question, Severus growled irritably. “I’ll thank you not to destroy the only comfortable chair in this Merlin-forsaken place, Lucius.”

“Do try to remember you are a wizard, Severus,” Malfoy sneered arrogantly, lifting his chin.

“Where is Miss Granger, Lucius?” Severus growled suspiciously, gesturing to the empty hospital bed.

“The insolent child left!”

Setting the chair right, Severus laid his hands on the back support. “Miss Granger is hardly a child, Lucius. If she was, I doubt you would be acting like a jealous suitor. Pray tell, if this is any example of Malfoy charm, I must confess… I fail to see its appeal.”

“I am not amused, Severus. Where would she go?” Malfoy hissed, tapping the silver ring on his thumb against the silver serpent topping his cane impatiently.

Snape met his stare coolly, sneering silkily. “You mean, where is the young woman who eluded both Death Eaters and Order members for two years, Lucius? Sweet Merlin, man, you were the only person to hear from her! Did she ever hint at a location?”

Lucius turned to the window, bracing his hands on the sill, bowing his head. His voice deepened, troubled now. “No dammit. One of those boys must know!”

“Yes, Lucius, and I’m sure they will be anxious to divulge that bit of information to us. Merlin! What did you do to her?”

“This is absurd. If the insolent chit is going to run away every time I open my mouth, then Merlin can keep her,” Malfoy swiveled on his heel, striding past his glaring friend to push his way out the door roughly.

Severus watched Lucius leave with a mixture of concern and exasperation. Since his wife’s death at the hands of the Dark Lord four years prior, the proud wizard had become reclusive. That is, until the mysterious unsigned letters began arriving shortly after the Trio disappeared. When Lucius had shown him the first, he’d easily recognized his former student’s neat and orderly handwriting.

To his amazement, Lucius had greedily snatched the parchment back, his gaze racing over the words with renewed interest. Severus was aware that his friend received further missives from the young witch, but he never spoke of their contents, snatching the parchments from the delivery owl before attempting to snare the bird. The Malfoy patriarch had suffered several deep bites before giving up on that venture. Hermione had obviously never anticipated the astronomical chance that Lucius might respond.

~

Lucius apparated into the empty foyer of his mansion and stalked to his personal library, enraged. Pulling the bound scroll from his pocket, he stopped before the fireplace, gray eyes flashing as his hand darted out to hold the rolls above the flames but at the last instant, he withdrew his hand, heart pounding as he stumbled to a reading chair. His deep voice but a whisper in the empty room. “Sweet Merlin… what kind of old fool am I? You have bewitched me, Miss Granger.”

He knew every word on the rolled up parchments in his hand. When they began arriving, he was secretly pleased that the enigmatic young witch had made such a bold move. But then, as time passed, the letters began moving away from literature and theory. They began to speak to him as another human being alone in the dark. They spoke of personal thoughts, fears and hopes. Hermione laid bare her innermost thoughts to him without the hint of guile and he found himself adrift in the ocean of her trust.

After six months of the missives, he had woken early one morning having dreamed of her sleeping beside him and he reached out to pull her close only to find the bed empty and he had slammed his hand against the mattress in frustration. His heart panged desperately with a longing he thought he would never again feel.

The fire crackled, drawing Lucius Malfoy’s attention back to the present. Snapping his fingers, he waited impatiently for the house elf to respond. 

“Master called?” The tiny gray elf bowed at his side.

Pulling a small, dog-eared photo from his pocket, Lucius thrust it at the elf. “This witch… Hermione Granger. Find her. I do not care what it takes, just find her.”

“Yeses, Master,” The diminutive creature took the photo and was gone in the blink of an eye.

After a week, Lucius felt as if he would lose his mind. Two years of wanting only to see the witch again and finally finding her only to lose her again was driving him slowly crazy. Hermione dominated his dreams and his waking thoughts, but Binkee had found no trace of her.

A month passed and Malfoy found himself in the Headmistress’ office demanding to know the whereabouts of one Hermione Granger. Minerva McGonagall simply shook her head, declaring her own mystification about the missing woman. Indeed, it was a matter of knowledge within the Order’s inner circle that only two people were not questioning her disappearance – the remaining two thirds of the Golden Trio. 

Lucius tasted ash as he strode from the Castle.

~

He woke the next morning to a soft tapping at the patio window and Lucius scrambled out of bed as if it were on fire at the sight of the familiar owl through the glass. The small brown bird watched as he approached patiently, holding its leg out with a small ruffle of its feathers.

"I will not take that if you do not wait for my response. Is that clear, little bird? If your mistress has instructed you otherwise, you may leave now," Lucius demanded angrily, unaffected by his nakedness, his heart pounding wildly in the fear that the owl would simply fly away and he would never know what the missive said, but the tiny owl simply hooted and shook its leg at the strange wizard once more.

Lucius snatched the parchment up with faint relief, the blood pounding in his ears as he unraveled the scrap of paper. Eight neatly printed words cause his heart to clench.

_"What do you want of me, Mr. Malfoy?"_

_'Everything, Miss Granger. Merlin help me, everything.'_ Lucius thought darkly, gesturing that the tiny owl should follow as he strode to his desk, pulling out a sheet of parchment and wrote quickly.

_"Malfoy Manor, 7 p.m."_

Tying the scroll to the bird's leg, he fed it a treat as he drawled conspiratorially. "There are more of these here for you if you convince your mistress to come."

The little owl eyed the wizard shrewdly, hooting a soft reproach before flying off, leaving Lucius Malfoy grinning after it. Turning back to the room, he roared. "BINKEE!"

A soft ‘pop' and the elf bowed. "Master called?"

"Yes. I will be having a guest for dinner this evening. A special guest, Binkee… We must make a good impression, yes. We will dine in the formal dining room," Lucius purred smugly as he strode to the large, en-suite bathroom to start his day. His house elves shied away from their Master as he swept through the mansion, humming.

It was only later, when he had changed for dinner that he felt a tinge of panic when the small elf complimented him.

"Master looks very imposing… yeses," Binkee smiled up at the tall aristocrat.

 _Imposing…_ Lucius looked at his reflection in the full length mirror, realizing with a start how intimidating he appeared and Lucius clawed at the clasp of his cloak, throwing it off before stripping out of the very formal, high collared black jacket. Pulling out a dark green dinner jacket, he nodded at his reflection as he buttoned it and secured his long, silken platinum hair in a matching tie.

Feeling the soft tingle of the gate wards, Lucius disapparated from directly from his bedroom to the front gate. A small, cloaked figure stepped out of the darkness on the opposite side of the gate and lifted a hand toward the knocker.

"Miss Granger," Lucius stepped from the shadows and waved the gates open with a courteous bow.

"Mr. Malfoy," Hermione responded politely, pushing the hood down to let her brunette locks tumble down her back as she stepped through the gate to his side. Laying her hand on his offered arm, she was surprised when he immediately disapparated her into the front foyer. Lucius smirked to himself – only a Malfoy could apparate into or out of the Manor.

Lucius stepped behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders for a brief heartbeat before slipping her cloak off. He took in the rich burgundy, velvet full-length gown she wore and smiled, drawling silkly. "We will have drinks in the library before dinner, Miss Granger."

"Dinner?" Hermione was startled, glancing up at him in surprise, halting in mid step.

The clenching in his stomach was not betrayed upon his face as he patiently purred. "Yes, Miss Granger. It is customary for one to dine in the evening."

"But… I thought… I mean, I'm just a…" She took a nervous step backwards and something very deep within him snapped.

His hand rose of its own accord, curling around her forearm. "Don't."

"Mr. Malfoy…" Severus' warning came rushing back to Hermione and fear came rushing in. She'd walked into the Dark Wizard's home trusting blindly and her instincts took over as her free hand curled around her wand. He tugged her closer and she leveled her wand on him, her tone hardening sharply. "You have two seconds to unhand me, Mr. Malfoy."

Grey eyes met her even stare steadily, but Lucius released his grip on her immediately. Holding his hands out at his side, palms up in a gesture of courtesy that belied the queasy feeling in his gut, he allowed silkily. "I apologize for frightening you, Miss Granger. Believe me when I say… that is the last thing I wish to do. Would you… allow me to start over?"

After a heartbeat, she lowered her wand with a cautious nod of her head, tucking the thin strip of wood deftly back up the sleeve of her dress, Hermione apologized smoothly. "It is I who should ask your forgiveness, Mr. Malfoy. That was ungracious of me. My manners appear to have… atrophied in my absence. I believe you mentioned something about drinks?"

"This way, Miss Granger," Lucius felt the tension ease from his shoulders as she gently laid her hand on his offered arm and, leading her into the library, he watched with avid interest as Hermione took in the walls of books before her. 

Stepping behind her, Lucius rested his hands upon her shoulders. He felt his cock tighten as her scent surrounded him and, leaning down to brush his lips against her ear, he purred huskily. "You are welcome to use my library at any time, Miss Granger."

"Why?" Hermione asked breathlessly, her heart racing at the molten shivers his voice produced, his touch igniting heady warmth in her body as she turned slowly to look up into his impossibly gray eyes. She was sure he could hear her heart pounding, as it filled her own ears deafeningly.

Lucius blinked, frowning minutely as her question filtered through the haze, his gaze dropping to her plush lips scant inches from his own now. "I beg your pardon, Miss Granger?"

"It was a rather simple question, Mr. Malfoy. You demand my presence and then offer access to what is easily the most coveted library in the entire wizarding world. I believe I do deserve some form of explanation," Hermione said softly, her eyes drawn to the ornate dragon pin on his collar and she struggled to repress a laugh when it suddenly winked at her.

Lucius felt her pulse quicken under his fingertips and he smirked, trailing his left hand slowly down her back to rest at the curve of her spine as he drawled huskily. "Miss Granger, it is you who owe me an explanation. Did you find it amusing to trifle with me?"

Hermione shivered, swaying toward him unconsciously like a moth to the flame. Whispering breathlessly, she confessed, "I would never trifle with you, Mr. Malfoy. I don't know what possessed me… well, I do but you would find it absurd… Never did I believe you would discover it was me but those letters… they were my lifeline and… I apologize if they were a source of aggravation for you. I know the last thing you'd want is some Mudblood intruding upon your life."

With a firm tug, Lucius pulled Hermione against his chest, gray eyes flashing dangerously as he brushed a stray curl behind her ear, letting his hand trail down her cheek to cup her chin, tilting her head up firmly. "Never use that word… I have been derisive of those not born to Wizarding families in the past but I have _never_ used that word. It is crude, Miss Granger, and unworthy of you."

Hermione licked her lips nervously, brown eyes widening at the firm press of his large hand on the small of her back. "I see."

"Do you, Miss Granger? Do you truly see how your letters… how you have… bewitched me? Do you?" Lucius purred dangerously, his voice low and husky, thumb absently stroking the soft curve of her throat. Platinum blonde hair fell on either side of her face, framing it as he bent down, gray eyes cloudy with desire.

"Mr. Malfoy… what are you doing?" Hermione asked breathlessly, the jack hammering of her heart growing louder as his warm breath caressed her lips.

"Kissing you, Miss Granger," His mouth slanted over hers, insistent and hungry, his tongue swept over her lips, parting them and thrusting against hers with a deep groan that vibrated down her body. His hand slid across her cheek to twine in her soft brown hair, pulling her closer as his tongue swirled against hers. He was a man dying of thirst and she was his oasis. Hermione responded, melting against his hard chest, her small hands clinging to his broad shoulders as he drew the ravenous kiss out with languid sensuality.

"Master," Binkee popped into the room and called out to his master.

Pulling slowly back from the kiss, Lucius held the witch tightly. Turning his head to glare viciously at the trembling elf, he growled. "What. Is. It. Binkee?"

Wringing its gray hands desperately, the diminutive creature explained. "There is an owl, Master."

"Kill it," Lucius hissed, returning his attention to the witch clinging unsteadily to his shoulders and stroked his hand up her back and down again slowly.

Hermione gasped, her fear-filled gaze meeting his stormy gray eyes. "No!"

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Lucius gritted his teeth, growling. "Do not kill it, Binkee."

"Yeses, Master. But Master - owl is not here for Master - it is for Miss Granger," The tiny elf squeaked out miserably.

Hermione watched nervously as he raised an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes in suspicion and she stammered out. "It must be Harry, Mr. Malfoy. I'll only be a moment."

"Potter?" Lucius purred dangerously, gray eyes flashing.

A questioning frown flickered across her forehead before she made the connection. Blushing shyly, Hermione trailed her hands off his shoulders and down his arms to rest on the curve of his wrists. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy. My best _friend_ , Harry Potter. I do apologize for the… interruption but he insisted. He thought you might have… less than honorable intentions. If I do not send Hedwig back with a message, he will come with Aurors and I daresay that will be far more intrusive."

Releasing her, Lucius bowed courteously, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing it softly as he held her gaze. She shivered when he spoke, his warm breath on her hand making her heart flutter wildly. "Take all the time you need, Miss Granger. My household is at your disposal."

Following the elf out the door, she turned, reminding softly. "Drinks, Mr. Malfoy."

Ten minutes later, Hermione returned, pausing in the doorway to watch him as he stood by the fireplace, the light of the flames dancing across the line of his jaw, over the silken platinum of his hair turning it golden. Lucius Malfoy radiated masculinity and strength, a carved statue come to life and her breath caught in her throat. 

"Is there a particular reason you are watching me, Miss Granger, or should I attribute these actions to something less… benign?" Lucius purred smugly, turning slowly to lean his shoulder against the mantle.

Hermione stammered, a deep blush rising in her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I…"

"Do not be, my dear. Not even Severus can creep up on me and I daresay he never stops trying. Please, sit," His deep, hearty laughter cut off her words as he stood, gesturing with one hand toward the lush leather club chairs beside him. 

Moving to the small bar beside the fireplace, he uncorked an ornate bottle and poured the deep amber liquid into two glasses. Handing Hermione the brandy sniffer, Lucius nodded toward the spirit. "1906 L'Esprit de Courvoisier. Cognac connoisseurs call this particular blend ‘The ultimate decadence' but I would argue that…"

Looking down into the swirling amber liquid, Hermione licked her lips nervously. "Mr. Malfoy… I feel the need to… explain myself and I would ask that you to hear me out."

Lucius nodded, taking the chair opposite and sitting back. His calm exterior gave no hint of the turmoil he felt.

Crossing her legs, Hermione took a sip of the rich liquor, closing her eyes as she savored the cognac with a blissful sigh that nearly drove him mad with desire. Opening her eyes slowly, Hermione tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she began speaking. "You asked me why I wrote those letters, Mr. Malfoy, and I think your real question was… why did I write to _you_ , of all people. I'm sure you could stop anyone in the street and put it to them and they would think it beyond absurd – Hermione Granger, the girl who disappeared with her friends, hunted by Death Eaters… pouring her heart out weekly to Lucius Malfoy, Muggle-hating pureblood Death Eater and Voldemort's right hand man."

Taking a deep breath, she continued, smiling wryly. "They'd pack you straight off to St. Mungo's with that story no matter how true it was. It is simply too… incredible to believe. I'm sure you'd find it's been far easier for people to believe you were a spy. Well, I didn't choose to write you for those reasons. I'm afraid my reasons were far simpler and a great deal more… naïve."

Standing, she walked to the fireplace, looking down at the dancing flames pensively. "You see, Mr. Malfoy… you were someone… I cared deeply for and yet, I knew what you thought of me. You were someone who couldn't… wouldn't… judge me as any worse because you already thought the worst of me. I couldn't disappoint you… You had no expectations I could dash."

"At first, I just wanted to know I was still _thinking_. I love the boys but Merlin knows, they are not avenues for intellectual stimulation. At least, writing to you, I could _pretend_ we were having a debate… it made me look at things differently, it challenged me to… make you proud," She turned, sipping wistfully at the cognac, but would not meet his eyes.

"And then… one night… we'd just apparated into an abandoned chapel in Weymouth… dusk was falling and it was raining… we'd just split up to take different rooms when we were discovered. I took a pretty nasty _Crucio_ before Ron disarmed him and we were about to disapparate when I was caught between Harry with another hex and the boys barely managed to side-along disapparated me out. I woke up two days later and the first thing I thought of was… my letter was going to be late. It was then that I realized… I would have _missed you_ if I didn't write. The letters… they weren't my lifeline… you were," Turning back to the fire, Hermione braced her hand on the mantle, speaking softly. "So… there's your answer, Mr. Malfoy."

Placing his glass on the table, Lucius Malfoy rose and crossed to stand beside her. Taking her free hand, he held it palm up and gently placed a slim, worn silver ring in the center, his gray eyes meeting hers unwaveringly. "You were… incorrect, Miss Granger."

Hermione blinked, frowning in hurt and confusion. "Mr. Malfoy, this is…"

"This is something that prevents you from harming me, Miss Granger. It is a powerful charm of an extremely intimate nature and one that leaves you quite defenseless against me," Lucius purred silkily.

"Mr. Malfoy, this was a gift. It is intrinsically yours alone," Hermione protested softly.

Curling her hand around the ring, Lucius enveloped her hand in both of his completely, taking a step closer as he clarified. "Miss Granger, it leaves _you_ defenseless against _me_."

"I do not need it, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione's eyes flashed indignantly. "What did you mean, I was incorrect?"

Lucius inhaled sharply, releasing her hand and she unfurled it, the silver ring glinted in the firelight accusingly. Hermione arched an eyebrow at Lucius and he held his hand out to her, watching her intently as she slid the ring back on his finger. Growling huskily, his hands slipped to her waist. "Miss Granger, I assure you… I do, indeed, have expectations you could… dash."

"You do?" Hermione bit her lip, growing warmer by the second, eyes drawn to the plush pout of his lip and she found herself leaning toward him.

Lucius nodded, watching her with tightly leashed control, neither encouraging nor dissuading, wanting her to make the decision without influence. Purring huskily, he asked. "What are you doing, Miss Granger?"

"Kissing you, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione whispered, her voice thick as her hands slipped to the back of his neck and the curve of his shoulder, her lips softly brushing his, flicking her tongue out to stroke his bottom lip. Pressing firmly, she whimpered softly as he parted his lips over hers, twining his tongue against hers without insistence. 

His mouth tasted like the cognac, rich and vibrant, and her hand fluttered down his firm chest, smoothing over the fabric of his jacket until her hand rested over his heart and he caught it there, pressing his hand over hers. Breaking the kiss, Hermione murmured softly. "You never did say what you wanted from me, Mr. Malfoy."

"Isn't it… obvious, Miss Granger?" he purred smugly, gray eyes glinting with lazy hunger, as he tugged her fully against his body, smoothing his hand down her back to mold her body against his, pressing her hips against his painfully hard cock.

"Of course," Hermoine's face froze, expressionless, for the smallest of pauses as she blinked slowly and nodded, her right hand rose to the collar of his jacket and she trailed a finger down the row of buttons, watching as they unfastened beneath her touch. His hand caught hers as it reached the bottom of the jacket, holding it still as the other stroked under her chin gently, tilting her face up to meet his steady gaze.

Her unreadable brown eyes held his and Lucius growled, a hint of anger in his deep voice. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione answered smoothly, her gaze sliding off his to focus on a point somewhere over his left shoulder.

"I see. In that case…" Lucius ground out between clenched teeth, gray eyes narrowing calculatingly and the room around them shifted, a sudden strong tug at her navel telling her that he had disapparated them both to the front gates.

She barely had time to comprehend the change of location when he was roughly pushing her away. Hermione blinked and gasped, confusion mirroring in her eyes. "I thought..."

"What? What is it you thought, Miss Granger? That I want your pity? For all your talk of expectations, you have a dangerously low opinion of me," he hissed angrily, turning away. 

Hermione frowned, shaking her head, and she stepped towards him, reaching out her hand. "No, I... I mean, yes. I _did_ think you wanted _that_ , but that's the impression you gave me," she pointed out, her gaze sad. "I'm not a child, Lucius… I understand what you want from me. I thought I was okay with it, but I want more than just a physical relationship."

Taking her hand, he growled, "It's Lucius and I am not alright with this, Hermione, because it is frightfully clear to me that you do not understand what I want from you." He pulled her closer and disapparated them to his lavish bedroom suite. Slowly, he drew her closer to the bed, purring as he slipped his hand up to cup her cheek. "And it is painfully obvious what you think me capable of, dear girl. I find this situation untenable."

"Then tell me, dammit. Just tell me," she huffed irritably, brown eyes flashing in anger. "What do you want from me, Lucius?"

"I want you to trust me, Hermione," he purred smugly, curling a hand around her wrist to tug her close, running a hand up her back as he bent his head to softly kiss her jaw and throat. Brushing his lips across her ear, Lucius purred huskily. "I want to find you on this patio drinking tea with a book in your hand wearing nothing but my shirt."

Drawing her forward, he sat on the edge of the bed, tugging her down onto his lap. Pushing her dress up, he stroking over her bare thigh with his free hand, gently massaging her leg as he pushed the collar of her dress out of the way to trail his kisses to the curve of her throat. "I want to walk into my library to find you curled up with a book."

"I want to come home and find you in the gardens," Hermione closed her eyes, shivering with the desire he was inflaming with his touch, his words, as he gently tugged the first button of her dress from it's hole, his warm lips on the soft swell of her breast. The buttons continued to slip free without complaint and his hand on her leg caressed its way up to slip to cup her breast, his thumb flicking lightly over her nipple before his tongue lapped lazily across it, making her gasp. "I want to have you on my arm at the opera." 

"I want to dance you across the floor at every Ball," The dress fell open freely and Lucius eased her to lay back against the pillows, spreading the fabric away from her with a hungry groan as he bent his head, his silky, platinum hair falling in sheets across her skin as his swirled his tongue around the bud of her nipple. She arched as he wrapped his lips around it and suckled, whimpering in need, her fingers stroking his hair. His hand stroked down her stomach and over the curve of her hip to the soft skin of her inner thigh, caressing slowly up to brush lightly across the tight nub of her clit. "I want you in my bed every night when I go to sleep."

"Lucius…" Hermione mewed as his fingers parted her soft folds to press one slowly inside her warm core, stroking gently as his thumb circled her clit. The sound of his name on her lips made the older wizard shiver, slanting his mouth over hers to kiss her hungrily. 

He added a second finger, stretching her core gently but firmly, flicking her clit until she was bowed beneath him, panting with need and he broke the kiss to hold her gaze as he curled his fingers inside her, pushing her over the edge. "I want to wake up with you in my arms."

"Oh… Oh Lucius!" She came hard, clawing wildly at the sheets as she arched off the quilt, head thrown back against his pillows, her brunette curls splayed out like a halo as her eyes squeezed shut. "Oh, sweet Merlin, Lucius!"

Stroking her through the crescendo of waves, Lucius slowed his ministrations as the clench of her body eased and Hermione opened her eyes, blinking, to meet his smoldering gaze as he purred huskily. "And I do, indeed, want you in the way that you thought, my dear, but I am an arrogant, powerful, possessive and jealous man, Hermione. You should consider this seriously because make no mistake, once I have you, I will not let you go."

 _"Theatre of Deamons,"_ Hermoine said softly, her voice thick with desire, licking her lips as she reached out to sink her hand in his long, silken hair.

The smallest flicker of a frown played across his forehead before fading away at the touch of her hand. Bending his head, he purred smoothly. "My book?"

"Yes. You had me at the book, Lucius. I've never wanted another," Hermione whimpered, stretching up to catch his lips hungrily, her tongue sweeping against his as he shifted, a flick of his wand divesting him of clothing before settling between her legs, the hot press of his hard cock against her thigh and then against her wet core, pushing slowly inside. 

Giving her body time to adjust to the intrusion, he rocked in a little further, catching her gasp against his lips. Another small thrust and the muscles on his back were stretched taunt, the overwhelming tightness and heat surrounding his cock dizzying. Rocking out and back, his cock slid to the unmistakable proof of her words and his gray eyes widened. "Hermione…"

"Lucius, surely even you understand that only a virgin's blood could provide that level of protective enchanting," Hermione could not help but smirk at the look of shock on the older wizard's face. Her tongue darted out to flick across his bottom lip, earning her a fierce growl that ended in his mouth possessing hers as he thrust hard, breaking through and stretching her painfully tight, his cock buried to the hilt inside her. Lifting his hand, he panted, _"Accio wand"_. His wand flew to his outstretched hand and he tapped it on the curve of her hip, murmuring a soft healing spell. 

Hermione moaned, the pain gone and it was all the Lucius needed to begin thrusting, slowly at first, then harder as her body adjusted to his thick cock. Taking her hand, he slipped it between their bodies and flicked her fingertips across her clit as his cock surged into her tight core relentlessly, purring against her lips. "Two years… wanted you… bewitched me…"

Wrapping her leg around the curve of his thigh, Hermione rolled her hips up to meet his and he caught her around the waist, pounding harder and faster as he felt the tremors racing down her body. Curling her bottom up, his cock slid deeper and her startled gaze found his as her second orgasm shook her body, clenching his cock in a vise of insane heat, pulling his orgasm from him, making him cum hard, driving his seed deeper with each shuddering thrust, as he growled thickly. "Need you… Mio!"

His arm shook as he held himself above her, his head down, long, silken platinum hair stroked her skin deliciously as his breathing finally evened out and she found herself staring into his unfathomable gray stare. Smiling lazily, Hermione asked softly. "Mio?"

"A pet name, my dear. One I trust you will enjoy as I have every intention of convincing you to do so," Lucius purred, satisfied beyond measure, shifting his weight off as he settled beside her, turning on his side to lay a hand on her stomach.

Hermione blushed lightly, feeling shy and unsure. "It's very pretty."

"Hermione, what is wrong? And do not lie to me, my dear," Lucius propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at her, his hand on her stomach sliding to the flair of her hip.

"I… nothing is wrong really. I just don't know what to do now. I've never… I don't know what is expected of me…" She admitted quickly, the words coming out in a rush.

Lucius threw his head back and laughed heartily, taking her hand in his. "My dear, I will tolerate no expectations between us now. If you chose to leave now, I will accept that with as much grace as I can find. If you chose to stay, we will get dressed and have dinner. I will show you the Manor and we will retire to this room and I will do everything in my power to convince you of your correct decision."

"You meant…" She hesitated, glancing up to meet his unwavering gray gaze, feeling his hand tighten around hers as he bent his head.

Brushing his lips across hers, he purred. "Every word, my dear, and a Malfoy never breaks his word. Chose, Mio, and know that I will employ every Malfoy bone in my body to keep you."

"Are you suggesting I should be your mistress, Lucius?" Hermione raised an eyebrow questioningly, her face impassive.

He frowned, sitting up and sliding off the enormous bed to stride across the room to an ornately carved desk in the far corner. When he turned back, she could see he had a large scroll in his hand and her mind's eye flashed back to the hospital. Sitting up, she summoned his shirt around herself self-conscious, tilting her head with curiosity as he approached and sat beside her, holding out the scroll without a word.

Untying ribbon, Hermione unfurled the first layer of parchment and, seeing the handwriting, her gaze shot up to his. With a touch of irony in his voice, he said. "I had something of a more… permanent nature in mind, darling. As you can clearly see, I have courted you for the greater part of two years, Hermione. I believe that is still held as the customary length of an engagement, however, I will allow for another four months out of deference to you."

"These are… you wrote _back_?" She asked in amazement, pulling one parchment after another free frantically and noting the dates, the pile fell to her lap as her heart pounded wildly. "But…"

"Your owl would not… permit me to respond properly," Lucius growled irritably. "It… it was most adamant that I not… detain it."

Her hand shot to cover her mouth as she swallowed a laugh, her eyes full of bemused horror at the mental picture his words formed. "Oh dear. I'm so sorry. I never thought you'd want to… Oh, I am truly sorry."

"I could be amenable to forgiveness," Lucius purred silkily, moving her hand away to kiss her soundly. "Marry me, Hermione."

"You can't… Lucius, I'm _muggleborn._ I'm friends with _Harry Potter._ I helped kill _Voldemort,_ " She hissed, flustered and confused, shaking a handful of parchments at the wizard.

Lucius sneered lightly, gray eyes glinting. "Yes, all those facts will drive my enemies mad attempting to disconcert my intentions but your… background is not an issue, my dear, and the rest are… a bonus."

"Oh sweet Merlin, you're serious," Her hand flew to cover her mouth again, eyes wide with surprise.

Gray eyes grew stormy as his jaw tightened and Lucius growled dangerously, his hands clenched. "At what point, my dear, did I appear to be insincere?"

"Lucius, you must understand, this is all a bit sudden… I never thought you might have feelings for me. Your owl commanded my presence tonight and it's been something out of a dream… I don't know what to say," Hermione explained softly, laying her hand over his, her brown eyes pleading.

"Do you love me, Hermione?" Lucius growled, taking her hand.

"Of course… I wouldn't have… if I didn't," Hermione gestured to the bed, her blush deepening as he pulled her into his lap.

Slipping his hand behind her neck, his thumb stroking lightly, Lucius purred huskily. "There is nothing to be ashamed of, my dear. You are beautiful. We made love, darling. It is the natural consummation of two people in love." 

"You…" Hermione stammered, her heart thumping like a caged bird.

Smirking devilishly, Lucius brushed his shirt off her shoulders, trailing hot kisses down her throat as he pushed her gently back onto the pillows.

"Lucius… what are you doing?" She asked hesitantly, sighing blissfully under his ministrations.

Lifting his head, he met her questioning gaze. "Showing you how much I love you."

Hermione blinked, her eyes hazy with desire, and swallowed nervously. "Oh."

Lucius bent his head, capturing her lips in a long, languid kiss that he broke only to purr smugly.

" _Nox._ "


End file.
